


The Way of the World

by Anonymous_Username



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Ambiguous Relationships, Background Poly, Backstory, F/M, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, Multi, Platonic Soulmates, Self-Hatred, Sexuality Crisis, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 08:35:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23348533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_Username/pseuds/Anonymous_Username
Summary: Soulmates are only ever heterosexual. They are a biological adaptation that developed as a way to get humans to reproduce, so naturally only soulmates that could produce a baby exist. Eliot Waugh was no exception. His soulmate's name appeared in the middle of the angst-ridden, sweaty, acne-filled glory of puberty. “Margo Hanson” curled around the base of his neck in a beautiful, magenta script.He hated Margo Hanson for his inability to love her.Margo thought of "Eliot Waugh" in an abstract way, never letting the name stop her from pursuing other relationships and hook-ups.He was a bridge she would burn when she got to him.
Relationships: Margo Hanson & Eliot Waugh, Margo Hanson/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	The Way of the World

Soulmates are only ever heterosexual. They are a biological adaptation that developed as a way to get humans to reproduce, so naturally only soulmates that could produce a baby exist. Eliot Waugh was no exception. His soulmate's name appeared in the middle of the angst-ridden, sweaty, acne-filled glory of puberty. “Margo Hanson” curled around the base of his neck in a beautiful, magenta script. 

Eliot’s mom was as superstitious as they come and had immediately prattled on about the symbolism of his mark. 

“Around the neck means soulmates who die for each other.” she sighed wistfully, “and magenta is an especially romantic color” she added. 

Susan had the name “Samuel Waugh” in sky blue around her wrist, the most common combination. She loved to daydream about her son’s more exciting mark. All of Eliot’s older brothers had light blue, wrist soulmates, leaving Eliot (as always) the odd man out. 

At first Eliot only hated the mark because of how hard it was to cover. He had taken to wearing shirts with collars and neckties as a way to hide it. Dressing as oddly as he did, gave his bullies even more ammunition and made him miserable. But as time wore on and Eliot realized his sexual preferences, the mark became a more literal collar, restricting and maddening. 

He hated Margo Hanson for his inability to love her.

/

Soulmate marks always appear in the same color and place on both ends of the bond. Margo had “Eliot Waugh” (a pretentious white boy name if she ever heard one) in magenta at the base of her neck as well. Her father had bought her an expensive gold bangle the day that the mark appeared as a way to celebrate her adulthood. Her whole family had congratulated her and had showered her with gifts and affection, but she could tell that they were disappointed that her name wasn’t Indian or Mexican like either side of her family. Margo didn’t let it bother her, she took to wearing her lipstick in the same color as her mark (a common practice, as many people took to wearing the color of their soul-marks). She thought of Eliot in an abstract way, never letting the name stop her from pursuing other relationships and hook-ups. 

He was a bridge she would burn when she got to him.

/

Eliot finally snapped at eighteen, when his mother asked him if she could take a picture of Margo’s name so she could copy the script for his wedding invitation. Eliot snapped the book he was reading closed. 

“No Mother, you may not take a picture of my neck,” Eliot ground out, “because there will be no wedding.”

Susan pursed her lips at his tone. “Now Eli, I know you hate being the center of attention, but that’s no reason to rob Margo of her big day.”

“Why do you insist on including her in the conversation like she’s here?! Neither of us have even met her yet!”

“Soulmates always meet each other” Susan reasoned, “why procrastinate?”

She was right of course. Soulmates always meet each other, even if it takes years. There has never been a case of someone dying without meeting their soulmate and learning their name.

But Eliot boiled with anger, even as his rational brain told him to calm down. Still, he couldn’t keep the feelings bubbling up inside.

Coming out to his mother felt like the first time he used telekinesis. Unintentional, then terrifying with life changing results.

Eliot spent the three months before his Brakebills exam homeless.

/

Margo had always loved risk. The allure of danger was as good as an aphrodisiac for her. That dangerous attraction often landed her in trouble, but it was never enough to deter her.

Until the night she sneaks home with blood hidden in her black mini dress, and a ring of bruises around her neck dark enough to obscure her soul-mark.

She started wearing layers of chokers after that. A bit of makeup around the base of her neck as an extra coat of protection.

She still loved danger, but she also knew the cost.

/

Margo and Eliot’s eyes meet for a fraction of a second at the test. 

Their heart rates sync up and the world narrows.

They think nothing of it.

It was a very stressful day after all.

/

When they next see each other again, they’re both looking for a place to smoke in peace. They had both picked up the habit as a stress reliever, but were both also convinced that it made them look cooler.

Margo was already settled with a cigarette between her fingers on the back steps of the dormitory building when Eliot found her.

She eyed the boy who stood across from her with a cool disinterest, even as her heart rate went wild. It wouldn’t do to show attraction outwardly, she reasoned reflexively as she took another slow drag.

“Come here often?” Eliot purred as he looked Margo up and down. There was something strangely alluring about the girl, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but excited him nonetheless. He had perfected a false bravado that he hoped would be enough to fool her as it did everyone else, and hoped she couldn’t hear his pounding pulse. 

Why was he so nervous?

Margo let out a snort at his cheesy line, but she let a small smile settle on her face. 

“Often enough.” she said as she took out her lighter and lit it, only for Eliot to lean in and light the cigarette already between his teeth, his lips centimeters from her hand.

It had been many years since Margo last blushed.

She was at once almost angry at herself for getting flustered over a guy. She mentally pulled herself together and drawled, “Whoa there, take me to dinner first.” with a lingering smile.

He huffed out a small chuckle at her tease, and blew out a smoke ring.

They spent the next five minutes in a comfortable silence as they finished off their smokes, and basked in the magically perfect weather around them. Margo tilted her head back and let the sun wash over her face, neck and bare shoulders.

Eliot was suddenly hit with how incredibly beautiful she looked with the sun casting her dark skin in a golden glow.

It scared him, because he had never thought of a girl as beautiful. He could tell when a girl was pretty, he wasn’t blind, but he had never experienced the level of awe he felt now.

It reminded him of what his brothers told him of their Soulmates.

In the next instance, Eliot mumbled out a hurried goodbye and walked off quickly, not quite running (too suspicious) but almost.

/

Eliot spent the next hour pacing furiously around his dorm room, scaring off his new roommate (a shame, he was cute for a nerd). He was lost in thought.

Why did this girl have such an effect on him? He had said three words to her!

He stared out the window, waiting for any girl walking by to elicit the same reaction, but none did. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity before coming to terms with what he knew was the truth.

He had finally met Margo Hanson.   
His mother had been right, he was attracted to her.  
He felt sick to the stomach, because fate decided that it knew best, that his mother knew best, after all.  
He cried himself to sleep that night.

/

It was inevitable that the two of them would see each other again, Eliot just wasn’t prepared to see her at 8 AM, that’s all.

He had hyped himself up as he had meticulously gotten dressed that morning. He would let her down gently, explain the situation, offer to be friends, play it cool.

None of that happened.

He had immediately frozen up when he saw her in that Monday morning 8 AM first year seminar. She was wearing a designer dress and heels, and he would have laughed if his traitorous body would’ve allowed him too. Instead, he felt like all the air was removed from his lungs, like when his older brothers used to sucker punch him.

He should’ve been quietly impressed by how extra she was.   
He should’ve immediately recognized the label and collection her dress was from.   
He should’ve noticed her sit next to him.  
But he didn’t, not until it was too late.

Margo Hanson was sitting right next to him, and she was looking at him like he was a creep, which he probably was for staring at her.

He quickly flicked his gaze away and rifled through his school bag

The class was small enough that the professor could call roll, and Eliot should’ve been prepared for it, but he wasn’t.

He wasn’t prepared for when the professor called the name “Margo Hanson” and the beautiful girl sitting next to him raised her hand.

He now had confirmation and only a few seconds before she would hear his name in turn.

He had never been more thankful for having a name at the end of the alphabet.

“Eliot Waugh.”

Raising his hand felt like standing to meet his executioner.

He sits stiffly in his seat for the next excruciating ninety minutes, ignoring Margo’s furtive glances and glares, and then bolts.

Like a coward.

/

Margo’s Soulmate is avoiding her.

Margo’s Soulmate doesn’t want her.

Margo’s Soulmate is exactly what the worst voices in her head have told her for years.

She tries to find him, ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s playing at. But he’s always a step ahead of her, sometimes literally with those stupid long legs of his.

Margo Hanson does not chase boys, and yet here she is. 

“Mortifying”, she thinks to herself as she hand washes her satin pillowcase as she scrubs at the mascara marks on it. 

“Pathetic” she mutters to herself in the empty laundry room, and hears it echoed back to her.

/

They mostly avoid each other until it comes down to moving out of the dorms.

There are only two physical kids in their year, lucky them.

Margo glares openly at Eliot as they face the door of the physical cottage.

Eliot reaches out with his telepathy and focuses on moving the door, on breaking the lock, but nothing budges.

Margo grasps the hinges and focuses on freezing them off. She focuses on the iciness that is usually so easy to conjure up, but nothing changes.

They both stop and glare at each other. 

“I think-” they both say at the same time.

Eliot motions for Margo to continue first. 

“I think we’re cancelling each other out here” she says thoughtfully, not looking him in the eye. “I’m not super into theory, but I think this door wants us to work together.”

“That sounds enough like magical bullshit to me” Eliot agrees.

Together they reach out with their magic, and the door explodes off of it’s hinges.

“Cyromancy, bitches” Margo mutters to herself as they step in, just loud enough for Eliot to hear.

/

At ass o’clock in the morning on the night they are welcomed into the physical cottage, Margo and Eliot wordlessly agree to have a big kid talk about their situation. So, in the relative privacy of the back porch, they pass a bottle of tequila back and forth and play Truth or Truth.

“Truth of truth?”

“Truth.”

“Why do you hate me?”

“Because I can’t fall in love with you.”

“Truth or truth?”

“Truth.”

“Do you hate me back?”

“Only as much as I hate myself.”

/

They aren’t exactly friends after that, but they can be in the same room as each other now. They even work together on some of the weird trials the school puts them through. That’s why they don’t hesitate to pick each other as partners for the final trial, confident in each others’ abilities if nothing else.

Margo is almost amused at Eliot’s nervous fidgeting as they sit across from each other naked, but she can’t help staring at his neck. Their soul-marks look so different when she looks at his mark and compares it with her own. Hers looks like it was pressed on gold, a metallic sheen carried throughout that makes it stand out from her skin and sparkle in the dim light. His looks dark by comparison, like ink on a page. She wonders at the significance of that, she didn’t grow up religious but she’s almost curious what her Abuelita or Dadi would say about it.

“Ok, let’s make this quick and painful shall we?” Margo says, breaking the tension and rubbing her hands together like she’s about to cheat at cards. “I’ll go first.”

She leans back on her hands and folds her legs criss-crossed to try and get comfortable before she continues. “Let’s see, I have the standard Daddy-issues,” she starts and both of them pause to giggle at the absurdity of the situation. “Um, and I was raped when I was seventeen.”

The smile dies on Eliot’s face. “That’s-”

“Save it.” Margo cuts him off. “I don’t need your pity.”

They sit in silence for a moment before Margo continues. “I guess that’s not my biggest secret then, or maybe I have to go into more detail.” She can’t help the shudder that runs through her, but she squares her shoulders anyways and swallows the bile collecting in her throat.

“No, you shouldn’t have to torture yourself like that,” Eliot cuts in, “it’s not fair.”

“Since when was magic fair?” Margo challenged, but there was no bite in her words.

“I’ll go next” he volunteers, “I’m gay.”

He winces as he says it, as if he expects her to hit him, to lash out, but she just rolls her eyes.

“Just my luck” she mutters, and Eliot feels hot shame crawl up his neck.

“Oh, not like that” Margo tuts, “I mean just my luck I get an idiot platonic soulmate.”

He stares up at her in confusion, and she continues “What? Did you not take a gender and sexuality class in undergrad?”

He shakes his head, “I never went to undergrad, just Brakebills. I never had the money.” He doesn’t want to reveal his past but something about her being so vulnerable with him, makes him feel like it’s owed. “I grew up on a farm, in Iowa.” he finishes, almost choking on the words.

Margo takes this in her stride. “We match, we’re just two misfits trying to look like the cool kids.”

Eliot barely holds back a snort, “I can’t imagine you as anything but the coolest girl in school.”

“Well I was” Margo clarified with a soft smile “but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t lonely or self conscious. I still am most of the time.”

Eliot was about to ask a follow up question when he felt a searing pain, vaguely he heard Margo shout as well, and then his entire world shifted.

/

Margo and Eliot used the silence of their early days of Brakebills South to think about their situation. Once their gags were lifted, they immediately sought each other out. It took a lot of tear filled, whispered conversations before they came to an agreement.

“You, my darling doe-eyed Margo, are my only exception.” Eliot declared, brushing a stray tear from Margo’s cheek, and pulling her into a hug.

“I like you too El” Margo said, even as her words were muffled in Eliot’s shirt.

And just like that they were best friends. They came back from Brakebills South with their pinkies linked and whispering to each other like catty schoolgirls. They party hard, fuck pretty boys (together and separately), and make a name for themselves as the HBICs.

Yes, It’s all going perfectly until Quentin Coldwater shows up, with “Alice Quinn” in scarlet on the back of his hand.


End file.
